Strange
by pastelkhaleesi
Summary: What happens when mischief crosses paths with cautiousness?
1. One Late Night

**I'm going to try to update fairly often, as I'll be posting each chapter as I finish them. But please be patient with me! Also please note that I do not own nor have any affiliation with Marvel or any of the songs featured in any forthcoming chapters.**

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Chapter 1: One Late Night

Walking alone from campus to my apartment probably wasn't the best idea this late at night. But I enjoy the walk, as it gives me a chance to reflect on my day and all the things I have to do tomorrow. Following the dim streetlights that lead me through the dark, I put in my earbuds and put my phone on shuffle. Seldom do cars go by and the voice of Eric Bazilian resonates in my ears.

 _'All you zombies hide your faces_  
 _All you people in the street_  
 _All you sittin' in high places_  
 _The pieces gonna fall on you'_

There wasn't many students around this time of night, and most of the faculty that was here were probably up in their offices doing some late night paperwork or something along those lines. My Directing class is one of the few at NYU that let out at 12:30 am. Most of my summer classes I decided to take later in the day, this one being the latest, since I'm by no means a morning person.

I am not in a big hurry to get home, but my surroundings make me anxious, as it should. I'm not exactly the most intimidating 23 year old ever; I'm only 5'1 and 140 pounds, which is pretty damn small. The walk isn't very long, only about a mile and a half, but I surround myself in a bubble of paranoia, constantly looking over my shoulder.

This is New York City after all. The big apple. The center of my universe where I hope to pursue a career in stage management someday. I like the chaos of it all. It's the complete opposite of my impossibly boring upbringing. Even though I'm alone in this giant population, I'm never truly alone since I was surrounded by others. Whether that's good or bad, I don't care.

Making the turn, I realize that this section of sidewalk along the park isn't lit. There's no streetlights until about two blocks ahead, and I begin to walk a little faster. I feel a piercing sensation in the pit of my stomach, feeling as though I'm being watched. Not one to ignore my instincts, I start up a light jog and turn the volume on my music way down.

 _'Only Noah saw it coming_  
 _Forty days and forty nights_  
 _Took his sons and daughters with him'_

Even though I expect to see someone behind me, I still jump when I do, letting out a squeak. He stood a few meters behind me. "I'm sorry, have I scared you?" he asks in a surprisingly soothing voice. I'm still on my guard though. "Yeah, that was actually pretty terrifying, thank you" I say, clutching my chest, trying to get my heartbeat to return back to normal.

Taking a better look at him, I notice his striking blue eyes that appear almost as though they are glowing. His pale skin cutting through the darkness. Long hair slicked back, darker than the blackest raven. His look peculiar, yet weirdly charming and prepossessing. And I felt a certain intrinsic magnetism towards him.

He's easily more than a foot taller than me and a hell of a lot stronger than me. But I'm not intimidated by him for some reason. As we watch each other, my curiosity grows. He's dressed in some sort of thick black leather with what looks like green lining; way too warm for this summer night. For whatever reason, he's interesting, and I can't seem to shake the feeling.

For only a moment, I glance behind me to the streetlights ahead. I turn back around to find him gone, as though it had been my imagination. I stand there for a minute just staring at the spot where he once stood. But eventually I chalk it up to being too tired and I turn to go, resuming my jog just to be safe.

 _'All you zombies show your faces_  
 _All you people in the street_  
 _All you sittin' in high places_  
 _The pieces gonna fall on you'_

Soon enough I reach my apartment building, entering the glass doors and keying in my code to get into the lobby. The ceiling lights are comforting after the long night, it being close to one in the morning at this point. All I think about is crawling into bed while on the elevator. It would be wednesday when I woke up, meaning I didn't have class until three in the afternoon. I think about how much I hate getting up in the morning and having to go somewhere, and begin to plan my day tomorrow.

My cats are there to greet me when I walk in the front door, the little fuzzbabies scratching at my legs as I kick off my pastel pink converse and throw them into the pile with the other ones of varying pastel colours. They follow my like ducklings to my bedroom where I snake under the covers of my bed. I don't bother to change clothes or even take off my false eyelashes; ain't nobody got time for dat.

Like usual, the cats hop up and cuddle up around my head as I begin to think about that man again. How he was so . . . captivating. Entrancing, almost. I wonder if he actually was someone real as opposed to a figment of my imagination. And part of me almost wants him to be real. He had filled me with a peculiar curiosity that I want to further explore. Drifting off into dreamland, I picture him one last time before I fall asleep.


	2. In The Morning

I slept the rest of the early morning away, waking up around 10:30 to the sound of my phone, tossed across the room headphones and all, still playing music from the night before. I begrudgingly get out of bet and pull my dirty blonde locks into a messy ponytail, leaving the front pieces out and brushing them to the side. Still in the same pink hoodie and gray shorts from the night before.

My cats are up on the window ledge, perched at their usual spots, across the living room. For whatever reason, they just love the light coming in from those windows. That particular set of windows has one right next to the other with barely any wall space between, allowing for a continuous ledge that the kitties could walk across.

I turn on the TV and I put on Cartoon Network, which is showing one of their more recently made cartoons. I mute the TV, however, and blast my playlist on shuffle over the bluetooth speakers. The next moment I'm prancing around my kitchen listening to hits from the 80's and early 90's as I make brunch for myself.

Today I decide on some scrambled eggs, folded like I like them, and a bowl of strawberries. As I crack open the second of my three eggs, I hear the closet door across from the bathroom slam. I look over to my cats, expecting one of them to have caused the sound, but they're all there atop the ledge. My heart drops, and I suddenly get the feeling as if someone's behind me.

"Yes?" I call out experimentally, hoping to god there's no answer. But as luck would have it, a distinctly male, voice that's somehow familiar, says "Wonderful morning, isn't it?" My eyes widen, and I instinctively lunge for the steak knife with a speed that can only be pure adrenaline. Turning around, my arm executes typical stabbing motions, only to be caught by the wrist by a large pale hand. "What a fine way to say hello" he says, unphased by my aggression and very clearly amused.

Taking a closer look at him, I realize that he's the guy from last night who nearly scared the living hell out of me. They're the same icy blue eyes and cold demeanor that had sent chills down my spine the previous night, and now again not even 12 hours since our first encounter. He towered over my 5'1 frame, me only coming up to his shoulder, and was obviously a lot stronger than me.

After a few moments, he releases my wrist and I rest the knife back on the counter, knowing that I have no chance at success. He walks towards me, backing me up against the counter, a sly smirk on his face. "Who are you and how'd you get in here?" I demand, trying to not sound as intimidated as I actually am. He smirks at the question, and is about to say something when we both hear a slight purr from at our feet. We look down to find Nikita, the blue tabby fold, nuzzling at the man's leg. Without breaking eye contact with him, I bend down and calmly pick up the kitten.

It was rather odd that she didn't try to attack him in any way, since she was the most protective of me. She'll go at anyone who knocks at my door unless I'm holding her, and even then she'll be hissing her little throat off and baring her teeth.

"What an interesting little fur beast" he says, leaning in to take a better look at the kitten, tilting his head slightly. I stubbornly pull her away. "Answer my question" I say again, more adamantly this time. Returning his gaze to me, he stands up tall again. "I am Loki of Asgard. And you should be more attentive because I simply followed you home."

"Why?"

"You're quite . . . intriguing" he says, almost growling at that last word. He pins me there against the counter, an arm on either side of me, boxing me in. I can feel his unusually cold breath on my décolletage, making me experience a certain level of vulnerability that I had never experienced before. He tilts his head to the side, smirking as his eyes travel down, as if following his breath, to my décolletage and then back up again. "I wish to know more about you."

Before I am able to respond, Nikita breaks the silence, suddenly letting out a meow. I took this opportunity to shove Loki away with my free hand. He looked up at me, at my sudden forcefulness, but doesn't retaliate. "You don't need to be that close to 'know more about me'."

I put Nikita down on the floor and let her scamper away before turning around to my cooking again. "At least grace me with your name" he says.

I sigh. "Kalelle" I say without turning to face him. In an almost mocking whisper, he says "Thank you."

I hear booted footsteps behind me, trailing off into the living room area. Loki's standing in front of the window, observing my cats as if he were an art critic and they fine art. "How did you manage to tame _three_ of these beasts?" He asks me.

"Magic" I retort flatly.

"Most impressive indeed."

When my breakfast is finished, I take my plate into the living room and plop down onto the couch. As I'm eating, Loki is leaning against a wall, creepily watching me from afar.

"Well you don't have to act like a creep!" I exclaim. "If you're not gonna leave me alone, you might as well make yourself comfortable." I gesture towards the spot on the couch next to me.

"I thought you said I didn't need to be so close to you; perhaps you _want_ me close to you?" he asks in a rather mocking tone. I glare at him. "I am only joking" he says before sitting down next to me.

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By 2:45, I'm ready for my classes. Today was History of Musical Theatre, Theatre Workshop, and Stage Tech all in a row, each class an hour and a half. I exit my bedroom in a new outfit: a black t-shirt style dress, matching knee socks, and champagne-coloured heeled ankle boots. A similar champagne-coloured pair of sunglasses hangs from the neckline of my dress. I can feel Loki's eyes on me all the way from the couch as I grab my things from the kitchen counter.

"What?" I say when I turn around. "Your change of dress has caught me off guard" he tells me. He steps closer to me. Now it's _my_ turn to smirk at _him_. "Well, I've gotta get to class" I say with a sigh as I turn to leave. I push past Loki and walk to the front door, stopping in the doorway for a moment. "See you later I guess" I say before closing the door behind me. I opt for my car this time since I'm in heels and drive the one and a half miles to the campus.

 ** **History of Musical Theatre (3:00 pm - 4:30 pm):**** **lecture on iconic musicals of the 20th century ie.** ** _Show Boat_** **(1927),** ** _Oklahoma!_** **(1943),** ** _West Side Story_** **(1957),** ** _The Fantasticks_** **(1960),** ** _Hair_** **(1967),** ** _A Chorus Line_** **(1975),** ** _Les Misérables_** **(1985),** ** _The Phantom of the Opera_** **(1986),** ** _Rent_** **(1996)**

 **Theatre Workshop (4:45 pm - 6:15 pm): Meisner method acting exercises**

 **Stage Tech (6:30 pm - 8:00 pm):** **project - create a complete prompt book for one musical**

All of my classes require an immense amount of effort, and by the end of Stage Tech I am completely exhausted.

The first thing I notice when I get home is that Loki is nowhere to be found. I search every room of the apartment, but to no avail. _Well he must've finally gone._

I trudge to my bedroom, dragging my feet, and change out of my dress and put a giant t-shirt on over my bra and panties. My typical lazy look. After I've washed all of the makeup off my face, I crawl into bed with my laptop and begin working on the prompt book for Stage Tech. I decide on _Heathers: The Musical_ by Kevin Murphy and Laurence O'Keefe since I'm a bit of an 80's movie geek.

I was able to get through two scenes before I fell asleep.


End file.
